


Madison

by dangercupcake



Category: Original Work, Superstition by Superstition_hockey
Genre: Consensual Kink, Flogging, Gen, Husbands, M/M, Rope Bondage, kink discussion, retired hockey players living their best lives, superstition by superstition_hockey - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 02:02:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17972357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangercupcake/pseuds/dangercupcake
Summary: Luc and Jacks are living their best kink life in their retirement. In Madison WI the day before they visit Katya at UW.





	Madison

Before his exhibition, Jacks watches another exhibition -- electricity. They come to like two of these a year, sometimes three if they can make it around Luc’s schedule and seeing Katya at UW-Madison and the schedule lines up with WisCon, and Jacks always makes a point to watch the violet wand demo. He never tries it though. He doesn’t want it done to _him_ , and Luc is always on the other side of the room watching the floggers. Yeah, Jacks knows, Luc likes to be flogged, no secret there. His skin gets all flushed up under its forever-tan, and if Jacks does it right -- i.e., the way Luc likes it, with Luc’s favorite flogger -- Luc gets deeply bruised for a few days, and slinks around looking satisfied and like a cat in heat.

They don’t do electricity stuff. It’s a sharp bite, a reminder of TENS units and injuries, nothing anybody wants. Jacks just… likes it.

A kid slides up next to him, jostling his cup of soda. Yeah, soda. With sugar and everything. Jacks is going all out in the last half of his retirement. He glances at the kid.

“Sorry, Master Jackson,” the kid says, all big eyes. “Could I, um, talk to you?”

“Yeah, of course.” He bites back, “Call me Jacks,” because he knows from experience that this group is casual about a lot of things, but takes respect seriously. He feels incredibly stupid hearing people call him Master Jackson -- and Luc makes fun of him _a lot_ \-- but it’s important to them, and he and Luc have found a nice little home here where people pretend they’re not _THE JACKSON-CHANTALS_ , so Jacks tries to follow the rules. Or, like, respect them. Same thing.

They walk a little ways away from the violet wand demo, to the corner by the food table. Since they’re in Wisconsin, not Quebec, the food table has a bunch of weird-looking casseroles on it that Jacks doesn’t recognize (he’d _recognize_ them in Quebec, and none of them would have tater tots on top). But since they’re also in Madison, half the food is fancy vegetarian and vegan stuff that Luc actually gets into eating. Madison is a _weird town_. 

“What can I do for you?” asks Jacks, when they’re away from other people. The kid is not really a kid -- he’s got to be older than Katya, maybe not as old as Hank, dressed up in leather pants and a leather vest. They both look brand new, no scars or creases yet. No leather cuffs, so Jacks is assuming the kid is trying to project “dom” and hasn’t learned yet that “dom” is what you are, not what you wear, not really. (Jacks is wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt and his black leather jacket that’s a little too big now that he doesn’t work out every day and eats ice cream more than once a month. People still, the first time he and Luc came to a meeting of this kink group, addressed him as “Master Jackson” before he identified his orientation.) 

Wait, but maybe the kid wants to be a leather daddy or something. Jacks is an asshole. All right.

He waits for the kid to talk and takes another sip of his soda. Writing this last book, Jacks drank a 20 oz bottle of soda every single day, regrets every moment of that, and still loves the stuff.

“Um, sir,” says the kid, “everyone says you’re the best at rope work.” He stops there.

“I’m definitely not the best,” Jacks says. “I just love it and do it a lot. And my rope bottom also loves it, which makes me look good.”

“But, sir,” the kid says, and Jacks’s heart goes out to this kid, but this conversation is getting awkward.

“I’m doing an expo later,” Jacks offers. “I’m scheduled for after the needle play is done. Did you get a flyer?”

“I was wondering though -- I mean, I was wondering, _sir_ , if you were taking on, um, apprentices?” The kid tries to shove his hands in his pockets and can’t because his leather pants don’t have pockets, and looks miserable.

“I am so flattered,” Jacks tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But I don’t live around here. My husband and I just come in a few times a year for these expos. Do you know Tom? Daddy Tom? He’s a great rope top. Let me introduce you. I bet he’d be willing to teach you.” 

Daddy Tom likes science fiction, vegan food, has three little girls in hockey, and his wife is a rope bottom to rival Luc. And he’d really appreciate being called sir by a nervous rookie like this one, way more than Jacks does. 

Jacks tries to picture Luc calling him sir, and can’t get his mind around it.

He drops the rookie off with Tom, who is fucking _delighted_ by the gift, and circles the room to put his arms around Luc. They watch a volunteer get flogged Florentine style. Luc shivers in his arms.

“That could be you, Chantsy,” Jacks says into his ear, rubbing his beard against Luc’s skin. “It’s really okay.”

“No, come on, mon chum, only you,” Luc replies in French. “I just like to watch.”

Jacks switches to French too. “We’re up soon. An hour or so. Are you ready to go under for me? Let me tie you up and send you flying?”

“It’s all I can think about… Master Jackson.”

Jacks tightens his hold around Luc. “Shut up or I’ll gag you.”

“You would never, you love it when I say dumb shit when I’m all tied up and can’t think.”

“I do, you say the best dumb shit I’ve ever heard.” Jacks leans in to kiss his neck. The person getting flogged is sobbing now, and Luc is breathing like he wants to get off. He’ll probably save that for their rope scene, use it, get all hard and beautiful when Jacks ties him up, immobilizes him, ties his legs. They have a suspension kit here that’s big enough to support Luc’s weight, and Jacks plans to surprise Luc with a chest and leg horizontal suspension -- not the wrists, never those beautiful, important, expensive wrists, not even now that Luc is coaching, not playing. Jacks has never tied up Luc by the wrists, always the forearms. Luc will love the suspension; he won’t be able to move, but Jacks will be able to move him. They’ve only done this once before, at home, using a tripod suspension rig, in their spare room, and Luc came without being touched. 

Then they took in another rookie, and the tripod suspension rig went into a closet and Jacks’s shower jerk off fantasies.

Until now.

“I can’t wait to get my rope around you,” Jacks murmurs, pinching one of Luc’s nipples through his “California Republic” T-shirt. Luc hisses and twists so he can bite at Jacks’s mouth, and everything else goes away for a moment; they’re in their own world together.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted SOMEONE to write me a story about Jacks being out of control (~~~sexually), so somehow *I* ended up writing a story about Jacks being super in control???
> 
> Madison does have a big kink community in real life that does stuff like this so thumbs up if you're looking for a place to do needle play, would go and have needles stuck in me there again. WisCon is also fun, and there are good pastry stores and great ice cream shops and excellent book stores (also unexpected I had some great burritos there), I mean it is a great town all the way around to go have fun for a few days and hopefully it stays that way when Katya goes to school at UW for the hockey program.


End file.
